The Favor
by Shannon Vega
Summary: Summary: F!DB needs an embarrassing favor from a male companion. Or, why stealing from Mages sometimes results in unusual and embarrassing predicaments. Brynjolf/F!DB pairing. From a prompt on the Skyrim kinkmeme site. M for sexual situations and adult language and themes.
1. Chapter 1

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Summary: F!DB needs an embarrassing favor from a male companion. Or, why stealing from Mages sometimes results in unusual and embarrassing predicaments. Brynjolf/F!DB pairing. From a prompt on the Skyrim kinkmeme site. M for sexual situations and adult language and themes.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Skyrim and the Elder Scrolls games are owned by other people-people with lawyers and budgets and huge creative teams. This story is only for fun and I promise not to break the characters too, too much.

Author's Note: I know that I have been out of the writing loop for a while-and for anyone who still reads what I write, thank you. Feedback is welcome and constructive criticism is always welcome as well. Flames and flamers will be ignored and used solely for the purpose of heating my house.

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**Chapter One**

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It had started so simply. She'd accepted a burglary job from Vex and it had gone well. No one had died and she'd flirted outrageously with the mark, leaving him panting even as she stole his treasures. She'd returned that morning from Winterhold. After the cold bleakness of the Mage College, she had been glad for the raucous liveliness of Riften with its jangling of ropes and splashing of waves against boats. It had been a quick descent into the Ratways and her purse was several hundred septums heavier now after Vex had taken possession of the jewel-encrusted drinking horn. Most of the other members of the Thieves Guild had been out, away on jobs and tasks to make the Guild money. Katrin had nodded greetings to her guildmates, happy to be home. More than a few of her guildmates mentioned that Brynjolf needed to talk with her but Katrin shook her head. All she wanted to do was collapse back into her feather bed at Honeyside and sleep for days. If her second-in-command was that desperate for a conversation, she allowed with a grin, then he could find her at her house.

So it was that she trudged to her house, the key heavy in her palm as she unlocked Honeyside. The house with its heavy beams and candlelight had never seemed quite as welcoming as it did at that moment. She smiled, throwing home the bolt behind herself, before she continued deeper into the house. That Iona wasn't immediately in sight caused her a moment of consternation—she'd grown to like her housecarl—but she assumed that the blonde woman was somewhere in Riften doing her own errands. She turned into her bedchamber, fingers moving with sure precision over the multitude of belts and buckles that dominated her Guild Leader's armor.

The click behind her was soft—almost too soft to hear—but Katrin tensed, turning instinctively towards the sound. It couldn't be a good sound, her mind told her, and she started to dive to one side of the bed.

The darkness that followed, stealing away her breath and her senses, sent her crashing to the floor. Her last conscious thought was that this definitely was bad.

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Brynjolf frowned down at the ledger. The guild was doing better, that much had been assured by the removal of Mercer Frey and the leadership of their new guild leader. But he still needed to discuss certain matters away from the cistern and the prying eyes and ears of their guildmates. And waiting for Katrin to return from Winterhold had chaffed him to no end. While he appreciated her willingness to get her hands dirty, he sometimes wished that their Guildleader was as easy to find as Mercer had been.

Then again, Brynjolf reminded himself as he climbed the ladder out of the cistern to the crypt entrance, Katrin wasn't stealing the guild blind like her predecessor had. For a thief she was remarkably honorable. Not that she wouldn't rob a mark blind, but that was a mark. Guild was different. In fact, he was going to have to start making her take her fair share of the loot—she brought in more than her fair share of the wealth but making her take a cut was like pulling one of Delvin's teeth.

The path to Honeyside wasn't difficult and Brynjolf found himself wondering, yet again, why his guild leader hadn't left her house for three days. At first he'd thought that Iona might have been ill and Katrin might have been tending to her housecarl. But he'd just heard that Iona was in Windhelm visiting her cousins—and hadn't been in town for over a week before Katrin came back from Winterhold. Which made him wonder if Katrin might have gotten sick in Winterhold. Volunteering himself to go check on their guild leader made sense, he told himself as he pulled out his picks. Nevermind the leer that Delvin shot him nor the amused look on Vex's face.

The lock came open easy and Brynjolf stepped inside, already phrasing in his head the case for Katrin to have her locks changed. Despite his own ability with lockpicking, it shouldn't take less than twenty seconds for him to pick her door open.

The sound of quiet sobbing stopped him in mid-thought and Brynjolf pulled his daggers, green eyes narrowing. "Lass?" he called softly, padding towards the sound of crying. "Are you alright?"

Stepping into the bedchamber, he found himself brought up short. Laid out atop the comforter was his guild leader in the shortest, sheerest negligee he'd ever seen. Her body was taut, her back arched as she twisted against something unseen. Her hands were bound above her head, tied to the headboard, and her legs were spread, ropes tied loosely to her ankles. Her heels drove deep into the mattress as she arched off the bed, panting and sobbing. If he didn't know better, he'd think that she was being fucked by something, though nothing was in view and he heard no sign of anyone in the house other than his Guild leader. He stepped closer.

"Lass?" he called again.

Katrin's eyes shot open, her sapphire blue eyes dazed. "Bryn?" she whispered. "Help me," she pleaded. "You have to—make it stop!"

Brynjolf nodded, moving to the ropes and beginning to slice through them with his dagger. He frowned as the blade of his dagger passed through the rope but left the rope fully intact. "What sorcery is this?" he muttered, grabbing the rope with his hand to make sure that it was really there. Yup, solid as Delvin's head.

Katrin shook her head. "Winterhold. Mage's College. Think the mark got mad about his cup." She managed all the words in one whooshing breath before arching off the bed once again with a cry.

Brynjolf sighed. Mages. Fuck. "So how do we get you free?" he asked, raking his hand through his blood-red mane as he dropped onto the edge of the feather mattress. His eyes swept the interior of Katrin's bedroom in distraction—it was actually a pretty room. Needed to have a door, but other than that, not bad. Not exactly what he would have pictured for Katrin, but she usually managed to surprise him.

Katrin swallowed, eyes squeezed shut as her blush started again. She rarely if ever asked Brynjolf for a favor—and this one would be a doozy of one. "You have to get it out of me."

Brynjolf growled. "Get what out of where?"

Katrin felt the blush heating her cheeks even more. Bad enough that it had been Brynjolf, a man who made her toes curl with his sultry accent, to come and find her like this but for her to have no alternative than ask him to help her—the gods hated her. Damned mages and their bizarre revenge tactics. "Bryn, there's something inside me. I need you to take it out of me. It's…" she swallowed, closing her eyes against another wave of sensation. Whatever cursed object was between her legs had kept her on the verge of orgasm for the last three days. Just when she thought she was going to have blessed release, it eased off. "I can't take this for another three days," she panted, eyes snapping open to meet the red-haired Nord.

Brynjolf moved closer to her. The heat coming off her body reminded him of his gran's hearth. Warm. Comforting. Home. "Lass, you realize what you're asking," he groaned, pushing her damp hair from her brow. He would be blind and stupid not to have realized that his guild leader was a beauty. Not to mention that she fair oozed sensuality in her every move. And, aside from his blind trust in Mercer, no one had ever called him stupid or blind. Well, no one except for Vex and Delvin, he allowed, but they didn't count. And now she was begging him to delve into her womanhood as a mission of mercy. The universe had a sick sense of humor.

Katrin nodded. "Please, Bryn."

Brynjolf breathed out slowly. "Alright, lass. I'll do what I can," he promised.

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	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: See Chapter One. Nothing has changed. Still own nothing.

Author's Note: Ahead there be slight kink. Thank you for not flaming. Please enjoy and let me know your thoughts on how the story is progressing. I really appreciate feedback.

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**Chapter Two**

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Katrin relaxed a little with his promise. Ever since she'd first arrived in Riften and helped him to frame the Dunmer shopkeeper (which she still felt a touch of guilt about, to be honest), he'd always played straight with her. He'd done his level best to protect and help her, even coming on some of her jobs. So, if the big red-haired Nord promised to help her get out whatever was inside her, she knew he'd succeed. "Think of it as pickpocketing with a twist," she offered breathlessly.

Brynjolf chuckled. Trust his protégée to try to lighten the mood. Standing, he stripped off his jacket, tossing the leather over the chair beside her bed. Rolling up the sleeves of his tunic, he climbed back onto the mattress, though now he was kneeling between her shapely thighs. "Nice, lass. Now, I'll try to cause you as little discom-" he began.

Katrin rolled her eyes and lifted her head off the pillow. "Bryn, by the Eight if you don't start working, I'll filet you," she ground out, already feeling the object inside her starting her back on the course of slow burn.

Brynjolf shook his head, smirking, but turned his attention to the job at hand. And what a job, he thought, sliding his hands up her inner thighs. The flesh quivered underhand and he tried to ignore her sharp, rasping intake of breath. Pickpocketing indeed, he thought, finally reaching the junction of her thighs. Whomever had trussed her up and dressed her (he was fairly certain that the gown on Katrin wasn't something she'd be wearing to bed alone and asking her at this juncture might be tantamount to suicide) had found a lovely pair of undergarments to match. "I'm going to need to cut these off," he warned, glancing up to meet her gaze.

Katrin nodded. "Do it, Bryn," she groaned, willing herself to be still. Not exactly easy since she now had the dual sensory imputs of Bryn's touch and that THING inside her.

Brynjolf nodded and, with a quick flick of his dagger, soon had shredded the sides of her undergarments, the cloth falling away to give him a clear view of the target. That's right, old man, he scolded himself. Think of her as nothing more than a safe to crack or a lock to pick. Tugging the cloth free, he tossed it aside. "Relax, lass," he ordered with a smirk.

Katrin closed her eyes at the first touch of his hand. His fingers slid over her nethers, carefully parting her enough to reach her channel. His touch was just as she had imagined—sure and warm and intoxicating. Slowly he inserted a finger inside her, sawing it back and forth to moisten her further. "Gah," she groaned, arching against his touch as he added a second and then a third finger inside her. "Bryn."

Brynjolf took a deep breath and slowly let it out. Just another job, he reminded himself, before he pushed his fingers further inside her passage. The heat and damp and pressure were amazing and Brynjolf felt himself get harder than he already was. It didn't help that the woman he was currently plundering was cooing and moaning above him. "Don't feel anything yet, lass. Going just a wee bit further."

Katrin nodded, eyes closed as she felt the sensations washing over her. She didn't think she was capable of speech at just this moment and found herself pressing against his questing fingers, chasing his touch.

Brynjolf frowned as he slid deeper inside her clenching channel. He could sense it—whatever it was—just beyond his reach. "Just a little deeper, love," he murmured, sliding his fingers as deep as they could reach. Finally, he brushed metal. His fingertips ran over the markings on the object and he finally found what he was looking for. Even though the object was deep inside her, whomever placed it within her would have had to have used some sort of handle. And he had found it. Fingertips grasping, he began to slowly pull it out. "Got it," he grinned as he slowly pulled it from her channel and into the light of her bedroom for his first look at it. Dwemer. That much was certain. Standing, he put the device on the floor and slammed his boot heel down on it, his smile grim as he watched it shatter into dozens of pieces. "Alright, lass."

Katrin slowly opened her eyes, meeting the grinning face of Brynjolf. "Thank you, Bryn."

Brynjolf chuckled, shaking his head. "I would say my pleasure," he began, already reaching for the ropes that bound her. This time his knife sliced through the ropes with a satisfying ferocity and he tucked his blades back into their sheaths.

The flying tackle that sent him sprawling onto the mattress came as something of a surprise. Blinking owlishly, he found himself staring up into the flushed face of his Guild leader. "Oh, but it can be, Bryn," cooed Katrin, her lips grazing his ear before her fingers dragged his tunic up and over his head. Her hands moved over his pectoral and abdominal muscles before descending to the waistband of his trousers. "Can I go just a wee bit further?" she whispered, her fingers sliding teasingly down to cup him through his leathers.

Brynjolf swallowed, feeling her settling her weight on his thighs as she straddled him. "Who am I to resist a beautiful woman," he replied with a grin.

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	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: See Chapter One. Nothing has changed. Still own nothing.

Author's Note: Ahead there be more kink. And sex. Thank you for not flaming. Please enjoy and let me know your thoughts on how the story is progressing. I really appreciate feedback.

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**Chapter Three**

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Katrin chuckled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his Adam's apple. "Well, you are my rescuer, Bryn," she allowed, sliding her hands up to trace the trail of red hair that dusted his chest and descended down below his beltline. "It seems only fitting that I show you my…appreciation," she cooed, her hands making short work of the closures of his trousers and spreading them wide.

Brynjolf hissed as he was laid bare—he wasn't one for wearing a loincloth beneath his trousers—and his cock sprang free as if powered by some ancient Dwemer mechanism. "Be easy, lass," he whispered, suddenly realizing just how at her mercy he was.

Katrin stared down at his manhood, entranced. "It's so pretty, Bryn," she murmured, tracing the velvety skin of his foreskin with her fingertips before closing her hand around his cock. "And it looks like it tastes so good. May I?" she asked, delight dancing in her blue eyes.

Brynjolf nodded silently, watching as Katrin quickly arranged herself to his side and slowly descended. His eyes rolled back in his head at the first touch of her mouth on his manhood and he let out a shuddering breath. Grabbing a pillow, he shoved it under his head to get a better view—and what a view it was. Between the sight of her suckling him, her eyes closed and her cheeks hollowed out, and the sight of her unclad privates within easy reach, he was hard-pressed to think of a more delectable sight. The sight of her wriggling hips as she suckled him gave him an idea and he quickly put his plan into motion. Grasping her hips, he lifted her so that she sat astride his face, her beautiful pink, perfect nethers now directly over his mouth.

"Bryn?" squeaked Katrin, startled enough to stop her suckling of his cock.

Bryn chuckled. "Don't worry, lass. Just want to make sure that you don't feel ignored. Keep going. You'll enjoy this," he promised, turning his attention to the beautiful folds before him. As he felt her lips close over him again, he pulled her down, his tongue tracing her folds with exquisite care and thoroughness. Soon he had found her tender little clitoris, his tongue curling around the delicate bud and earning him a muffled shriek. While his tongue massaged the pearl of flesh, his fingers returned to her clenching passage, curling just so. Stroking the spongy flesh inside her that would make her scream, he began his onslaught in earnest.

Katrin gave as good as she got—or tried to. But three days of being on the verge of orgasm and Brynjolf's determined efforts between her thighs soon had her caterwauling with pleasure. Gasping, shaking, she barely noticed as Brynjolf once again maneuvered her body, this time pulling her up to sprawl atop him with her head resting on his chest. "That was…"she trailed off.

Bryn smiled. "Feel better, lass?" He stroked his hand down her back, her negligee rucked up around her waist and giving him lovely access to all of her curves.

Katrin nodded slowly, blinking sleepily. For the first time in three days the maddening sexual tension was gone. She felt blissfully relaxed and safe. "You are amazing," she whispered around a yawn.

Brynjolf chuckled. "I know, lass. I think you need a wee rest, though." He smoothed his hands down over the curve of her ass, filling his palms with her luscious curves. "Before we do any more playing."

Katrin nodded slowly, suddenly feeling the effects of the past three days seeping through her body as a wave of exhaustion. "Will you be here when I wake, Bryn?" she asked, lifting her head from Brynjolf's chest to meet his gaze.

His rumbling chuckle shook his chest, vibrating through her body as she lay sprawled atop him. "Aye, lass. I'll be here as long as you want me," he promised.

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	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: See Chapter One. Nothing has changed. Still own nothing.

Author's Note: Thank you for not flaming. Please enjoy and let me know your thoughts on how the story is progressing. I really appreciate feedback.

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**Chapter Four**

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Katrin wasn't sure how long she'd been asleep but it felt an age. Stretching deliciously, she blinked herself slowly awake and sat up. Sniffing, she made a face as she caught a whiff of her own scent—too long without a bath, she decided with a grimace, climbing from the bed and moving to her wardrobe.

"Ah, you're awake," murmured Brynjolf, appearing in the doorway of her bedchamber and earning a small squeak of surprise from his Guild Master. He chuckled but continued to dry his hands on the cloth that he then slung over his shoulder.

"Bryn! I thought you must have left," she whispered, spinning to face him and holding the dressing gown she'd pulled from the wardrobe in front of her scantily clad form. "What are you doing here still?"

Brynjolf arched a brow at her modesty, allowing a small smile. "Do you not recall asking me to stay?" He stepped further into the room, waving at her dressing gown. "You've been asleep a day, Kat. I thought getting some food into your belly and your body into a bath might make you feel better," he grinned.

Katrin blushed. "That does sound lovely," she admitted as her stomach chose that very moment to voice its displeasure at being ignored. "I am famished. But I'm afraid that a bath must come first. I'm a bit…ripe."

Brynjolf chuckled, stepping closer to her. Standing in front of her, he plucked the dressing gown from her hands. "Then bath it is. And since I don't want you to faint dead away from hunger, I'll feed you while you bathe," he suggested, guiding her down into the lower level of her house towards the bathing room.

"Made yourself at home then, have you?" she teased gently as they neared the bathing chamber. She could already smell the bath water—he'd clearly used some of the lavender bath oil that she kept for just that purpose.

Brynjolf smiled down at the petite Breton as they stepped into the bathing chamber, his hands moving to the hem of her negligee. "Just learning the lay of the land, as it were," he admitted with a purr as he slowly lifted the nightshift over her head, leaving her smooth porcelain skin fully exposed to his gaze for the first time. Swallowing, he let his hand move to the small of her back, tracing gentle circles on the bunching muscles just above her the swell of her buttocks. "Now, lass," he whispered, his voice roughening slightly with desire, "let's get you into that bath, shall we?"

Katrin nodded, slowly lowering herself into the sunken tub with a hiss, more and more of her curvy frame disappearing beneath the surface of scented bubbles. Finally submerged to her shoulders, she lifted her blue eyes to meet Brynjolf's hungry gaze. "It feels…incredible," she murmured with a lazy smile, her eyes already drifting to half-mast as she leaned against the side of the tub. Lifting her hand from the water, she beckoned at Brynjolf. "Come on, Bryn. Would be a shame not to share," she purred.

Brynjolf grinned, fingers moving to the buckles and fastenings of his armor. "Aye, lass." Stripped bare, he slowly lowered himself into the tub. Settling on the natural shelf formed just below the lip of the tub beside Katrin, he allowed the heat of the bath to seep into his muscles. "You're right, it does feel incredible," he admitted, allowing his gaze to travel over her fair shoulders and up her slender neck.

Katrin smirked. "Told you," she murmured sleepily, resting her head on his shoulder. Beneath the water, her fingers sought out and found his hand, twining her fingers with his own. "Thank you for taking care of me, Bryn."

Brynjolf smiled, brushing a gentle kiss against the top of her head. "Aye, lass. It was my pleasure." Glancing to the side of the tub, he spotted the tray of meats, cheeses, and breads he'd brought down earlier in preparation of her bath. "Now, feel up to a bite?"

Katrin looked up, a teasing smile curling her lips. "Now, Bryn, what type of bite are we talking about? Because," she shifted closer, her free hand brushing against his cock beneath the water, "I could be up for a few different ones with you."

Brynjolf swallowed, seeing the desire in her eyes and knowing that it was answered in his own. "Such as this?" he asked, leaning down and nibbling gently on her throat. Her moan and the way she moved closer to him, the water lapping against the sides of the tub as her body shifted beneath the water telltale signs.

Katrin let out a breathy moan, her hands sliding up into his rich red mane and combing through it. "That could be one of them, perhaps. I guess you'll just have to investigate further." Her lips moved to his throat, pressing soft kisses down the line of his throat to his adam's apple. "It's important to take your time, listen to the tumblers and not force the lock, right?" she purred.

Brynjolf growled, his hands moving to her waist and lifting her onto his lap. His mouth returned to her throat, laving the flesh that he had nibbled on with soft, open kisses. Slowly his lips climbed to her ear, his teeth gently catching the fleshy lobe of her ear. The way her breath caught and how she moved closer to him, her breasts pressing against his lightly furred chest, told him that she liked it. "Now, now, Kat, you know better than to try to distract me. I need to feed you," he reminded her huskily. At this rate, he thought desperately, he was going to take her in this tub and food be damned.

Katrin glanced down at the water's surface, her fingers still brushing over his thickening length. "I'm sure that I could get sustenance somewhere," she purred teasingly.

Brynjolf, eyes shut, blindly pulled the platter of food closer to the tub. "Eat, wench," he ordered with a groan. "Else I'll hold you to your teasing," he warned.

Katrin chuckled, then caught a whiff of the food. Her laughter turned to a moan as she reached out, catching up a cluster of Jazbay grapes. "Food," she groaned. Soon she had devoured most of the food and leaned against Bryn, warm contentment at her belly being so full filling her body. "You are a saint, Bryn," she purred, enjoying the way his hands moved over her back, kneading her muscles beneath the water.

Brynjolf allowed a strained chuckle as he felt Katrin snuggle closer to him, parts of his anatomy reacting to her body pressed so intimately to his as well as her obvious pleasure at her meal. "Haven't been called a saint in an age, lass. Now, are you ready to get out of the bath?"

Katrin glanced up lazily. "Why, Bryn? It'll be hours before the water gets cold—trust me, I know. And I doubt I'll have you like this any time soon…have to make the most of this opportunity," she purred, nibbling on the soft skin just below his ear.

Brynjolf groaned, his hands sliding from the small of her back down to cup her ass under the water and pull her more snugly against himself. "Careful what you ask for, Kat. I could very easily be convinced to make this a regular occurrence." His voice and accent thickened with desire as he met her gaze.

Katrin arched a brow, a grin tugging at her lips. "The bath or…" she trailed off, leaning down and nibbling on his throat, the strong column of his neck shuddering under her careful onslaught.

Brynjolf growled, one of his hands moving to her head, fingers spearing through her hair and dragging her mouth to his. "By the Eight," he murmured, capturing her lips with his own. He could taste the lingering flavors of the Jazbay grapes and Black-Briar mead on her tongue as they tangled, sharing breath as he learned her with sweeping strokes. "Is this what you want?" he asked, trying to control his breathing. "Is it me you want or just a fuck?" He was deliberately crass, watching her for her tells.

Katrin's expression sobered, just as he expected, though a trace of humor still lingered in her blue eyes. "If I just wanted a fuck, Bryn, I wouldn't be here. Well, I might be here but I'd be planning on kicking you out as soon as we were done. Which I'm not, by the by." Tangling her fingers in the damp hairs at the back of his neck, she smiled. "I've wanted you ever since I first walked into the Ragged Flagon, Bryn," she admitted quietly. "Just figured that I didn't stand a chance—there are far more beautiful women in Riften and our guild than me."

Brynjolf groaned incredulously. Had he really been that blind when it came to his protégé? "Are you telling me that I could have been bedding you from the moment that you joined the guild?" The image of taking her against the wall in the Ratways rose unbidden in his mind and he shook his head.

Katrin shrugged, her expression suddenly shy. "Believe me, I got enough teasing from Sapphire and Delvin about my mooning after you. Vex just told me I was an idiot and sent me on more jobs."

Brynjolf shook his head. "Clearly I'm daft, lass. Still want me even though I missed all of your tells?" he asked, lifting her hand to his lips and pressing her fingertips to his warm lips.

A sigh escaped her as she shifted closer, a small smile curling her lips. "I'd be daft if I didn't, Bryn. But are you sure you want me? I don't want to mess about with the Guild—they're just beginning to get their legs beneath them." Her expression became pensive and, not for the first time, Brynjolf spotted her tendency to mother the Guild. It was one of the things that he loved about her.

"Lass, the Guild has never been in better hands or had better leadership," he soothed. "And I want you more than I should," he whispered, pulling her hand to rest over his heart, his expression serious. "Now, if you're amenable, I'm going to carry you to your bed and ravish you," he warned teasingly.

Katrin giggled. "Wouldn't you rather ravish me here in the tub?" She splashed her palm on the surface of the water for emphasis.

Brynjolf stood, water sluicing off his body as he slowly levered himself out of the tub. Drying off with a bathsheet, he dropped it into a bin and turned to Katrin. "Because, lass, I'd rather not have to worry about drowning when I bury my head between your thighs." Reaching down, he tugged a startled Katrin from the tub and wrapped a bathsheet around her form before lifting her into his arms. "Now, lass, to bed with us."

Katrin let her head rest against his chest as he carried her up the stairs from the lower level of the house and into the large bedchamber at the front of the house. "This feels nice, Bryn."

Brynjolf set Katrin on her feet and whipped off the bathsheet, tossing it out of the way. Standing before her, he caught his forefinger beneath her chin and met her gaze. "By the time we're done, lass, this will feel very, very nice," he whispered before he claimed her lips again.

Katrin sighed as they broke the kiss, her hands resting on his chest and her eyes still shut as she savored the lingering taste of Brynjolf on her lips. Cracking open one eye, she offered a tiny smile. "For some reason I have a voice sounding very much like my mother telling me to send a thank you note to Ancano for all of this."

Brynjolf frowned, puzzlement in his expression. "Ancano—wait, the mark from the College?" He shook his head, guiding Katrin backwards until her knees collided with the bed and then lowering her backwards onto the bedspread. Crouching beside her, he surveyed his prize. "Why would you want to thank him?" he asked, dipping down to nuzzle her throat below her ear.

Katrin let out a slow sigh as his mouth played with her throat. "Because, Bryn, if I hadn't pinched the Thalmor's cup and gotten his very interesting form of payback, I wouldn't be here with you," she explained, pushing him back so that he lay slightly propped up by the pillows at the head of the bed. Slinging her leg over him, she settled astride him, the head of his cock brushing deliciously against her. "Hence, the thank you note," she explained, leaning down to capture his lips.

Brynjolf shook his head, a grin tugging at his lips. "Lass, sometimes I worry for your sanity," he admitted. His hands fell to her hips, guiding her onto his cock. "And, to be fair, this," he motioned between himself and Katrin as he finally was fully sheathed within her, "was going to happen regardless."

Katrin arched a brow, rolling her hips experimentally, feeling the wonderful fullness of Brynjolf's thick cock in her channel and the way he rubbed all those wonderful spots inside her with his length. "Really? Regardless?" she breathed, leaning forward and dropping a kiss on his chin.

Brynjolf's hands cupped her ass, massaging the flesh as he started to guide her atop him in a pleasurable rhythm. "Aye. Ever since you left with Mercer for the Snow Veil Sanctum," he admitted, leaning up to capture one of her pink-tipped nipples in his lips. "Knew that it was just a matter of time before you were mine."

Katrin shuddered as Brynjolf sped his thrusts up inside her, letting her head fall back in surrender. "Yours? Tad presumptuous there, aren't you, Bryn?" she teased. Not that he was wrong—she really hadn't even noticed any other man since meeting Brynjolf. Damnably inconvenient, if she were going to be honest, since there were no shortage of handsome men in Skyrim. She shifted atop him, pulling him deeper as her inner muscles clenched around him.

Brynjolf groaned, his broad hands cupping her ass. "Presumptuous? You wound me, lass." He gazed up at the woman riding him, her head thrown back, her hands clutching at him unconsciously. Her body wasn't unmarked—in their trade it wasn't uncommon for one to have a variety of scars. One, though, looked newer than most. He traced the line of the scar where it trailed just under her ribs. "What is this one?"

Katrin glanced down, wincing at the memory connected with that particular scar. "Mercer."

Brynjolf's eyes hardened at the name of the late Guild Master and he pressed his palm over the scar. "I never knew." He'd never thought to ask either Karliah or Katrin exactly what had happened at Snow Veil Sanctum, always assuming that they would eventually tell him.

Katrin leaned down, forcing his gaze to lift from her scar to her eyes. "Brynjolf, let it go. He's gone." Her lips quirked up as she stroked her fingers down the scar on his cheek. "Our scars help make us who we are. Now," she rolled her hips, earning a moan from the man beneath her. "I'm done talking about Mercer Frey. I'd rather talk about something else. Do you have any ideas?"

Brynjolf pulled her down, his mouth claiming hers as he rolled them over so he was atop her. "Aye, lass. I think I'd rather discuss what we'll have for breakfast," he teased.

Katrin giggled beneath him, her laughter morphing into moans as Brynjolf began to move in earnest within her, building her quickly towards an explosive orgasm. Clutching him to her, her internal muscles massaged and clutched at his length as he drove into her again and again. Over and over again she rocked with him feeling him swelling as she drew nearer and nearer her peak. He was exquisite, she allowed, watching him move above her. Reaching up, she cupped her palm against his cheek, the stubble on his cheek rasping against her skin. "That sounds wonderful," she breathed as his lips captured hers.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: See Chapter One. Nothing has changed. Still own nothing.

Author's Note: Thank you for not flaming. Please enjoy and let me know your thoughts on how the story is progressing. I really appreciate feedback.

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**Chapter Five**

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Brynjolf's nose wrinkled slightly as an unfamiliar smell greeted him. Bacon. Eggs. Sweetrolls. Slowly he cracked open his eyes, gazing sleepily around the bedroom he'd laid claim to for the past few days. The sheets lay rumpled on Katrin's side, the warmth under his palm telling him she'd risen within the past few minutes. But she wasn't there now, and Brynjolf quietly dragged himself from the comfort of her straw-stuffed mattress to hunt for her.

Wrapping the top sheet around his waist, he padded barefoot towards the kitchen area. His steps were light and he was careful to avoid the few squeaky boards that littered the wooden floor. Leaning in the doorway to the kitchen, he took in the vision before him. Clad only in his tunic was Katrin, her attention focused on the food currently cooking over the hearth. Bacon sizzled in a pan while sweetrolls warmed on the stones of the hearth. On the table lay a bowl of golden yellow eggs and his stomach rumbled, giving away his position.

Katrin glanced up from the food cooking, her cheeks flushed with the heat of the fire before her. "You're awake," she grinned, slowly straightening as she took in the chiseled Nord standing naked save for her sheets held loosely at his hips. "I hope you don't mind—after our conversation last night, I thought a proper breakfast might be a nice treat."

Brynjolf grinned, pushing off from the doorframe to pad towards Katrin. "Aye, lass. A treat it surely is." Leaning down he caught her lips, his mouth hungry against her as he pulled her against him. "And the food is a nice touch as well."

Katrin chuckled as she found herself with an armful of amorous Nord. "I'm glad you approve."

Brynjolf nodded, lips trailing down her throat. "Aye, lass. Now, can the breakfast wait for a few minutes? I can think of a few appetites that need satisfying before our bellies." Leaning back, he caught her chin, forcing her to meet his emerald gaze. "If you're amenable?"

The sweetrolls soon found themselves on a plate, the pan with the bacon taken away from the flame, and a plate set over the bowl of eggs to keep the heat in. All done with salvaging their breakfast, Katrin turned her attention back to the flame-haired man. "Aye, Bryn. I can think of little you could offer that I wouldn't be amenable to," she admitted with a shy smile as she stepped back into his arms.

"Careful, lass. A man might take advantage of that quite easily," warned the thief, guiding Katrin back to the bedroom and the bed they had shared. Settled back on the mattress together, Brynjolf held Katrin against him. "Luckily for you, I would never take advantage of you. Now, you on the other hand," he trailed off with a chuckle.

Katrin chuffed indignantly, a smile tugging at her lips. "Are you saying that I would take advantage of you, Master Brynjolf?" She tried to glare at Brynjolf but failed as a giggle escaped her lips. "Guilty as charged, I'm afraid." She paused, her expression sobering as she trailed her fingers over his chest, the dusting of red chest hair silky beneath her fingertips. "I don't regret this, though," she admitted quietly.

Brynjolf sucked in a breath as she raised her eyes to meet his. "Neither do I, lass." He swallowed, searching her gaze. He only saw trust and love in her eyes and the promise of a home he hadn't realized he'd been searching for until now. "Mind making this a permanent arrangement, lass?" he purred against his lips, his arousal pressing against her hip through the sheet still wrapped around him. "I don't fancy the idea of sharing you with any other."

Katrin gasped, surprise and pleasure blooming in equal parts in her eyes. "Are you serious, Bryn? I never thought—"she trailed off. He did, after all, have a reputation. A well-earned one, if the ladies of Riften were to be believed. Then again, she could hardly cast stones what with her trail of past lovers. And the look in his eyes told her that he was serious. "Yes, Bryn. I'd love to make this a permanent arrangement," she answered quietly, her lips catching his.

"Then a wee favor, lass," grinned Brynjolf, tugging the sheet from between them as he pressed Katrin back into the mattress, settling back within the cradle of her thighs with a sigh.

Katrin offered a lazy smile as she hooked her ankles behind him. "Anything, Bryn," she whispered as he sank into her, her head pressing back into the pillows as she arched beneath him.

"I want a damned door."

~FIN~


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